Starlit Nocturne
by Ayrielle
Summary: I never realized how lucky normal couples have it. But then again, normal couples don’t have Edward, so they couldn’t be all that lucky, could they? ......An Edward and Bella tale, in 'Twilight' style, during the summer between 'Twilight' and 'New Moon.'
1. Let's take a ride

**Disclaimer: **_The Twilight Saga is not my creation, nor do any of the characters speak to me, nor do I feel worthy to even play in Stephenie Meyer's world. And yet, here I am, dabbling in the sandbox she provided. I cannot possibly hope to profit. I merely write to soothe my thirst._

**Do note:** This tale, my first 'Twilight' story, is told in true 'Twilight' form: from Isabella Swan's point of view. I do my best to keep all the characters in character, and I hope this little piece would fill in some of the summertime gap between 'Twilight' and 'New Moon.'

I plan to post the new sections every 4 days. It's not a long story, merely one I felt compelled to write out and share with the universe.

If you feel so inclined, and have the time, please comment with what you loved or what you hated. I thoroughly appreciate constructive criticism.

With that, it is my pleasure to bring you **'Starlit Nocturne'**...

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"You should really get started on your college applications, Bella," Edward's velvet voice was chiding, gentle. He was stretched out on my bed, with those butterscotch eyes I loved shut in relaxation.

I was sitting up already, and crossed my arms over my chest, turning away from him. I rolled my eyes with a huff.

"I saw that," he pointed out lazily. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

I dared a peek over my shoulder, and his topaz eyes snapped open and sparkled with humor.

"For Pete's sake, Edward," I said, a little annoyed, but not really. "You're worse then Renee. I have months before deadlines start popping up."

He gave me my very favorite crooked smile. "It never hurts to start early. At least you only have to apply for colleges once."

"Hypothetically," I corrected.

"Hypothetically," he agreed. "Try having to do it every 8 years or so for the rest of your existence."

Edward's long marble fingers reached over to toy with my chestnut hair. I shivered involuntarily. He smirked, pleased.

I couldn't even hold the faintest bit of annoyance toward him, not when he looked at me like that. I succumbed, uncrossing my legs as I stretched out along his muscular, perfect body. Pillowing my head on his cold chest, he wrapped his left arm around me, holding me close. His amber eyes closed.

My hand rested over where his heart was, though I felt no pulse there. I opened my mouth to speak, but he shushed me.

"Wait…" his voice, now husky, commanded.

I was powerless to do anything else, and so I watched him from under long lashes. He nuzzled the top of my head ever so slightly, ghosting his lips across my hair, inhaling deeply. I wished I had his sense of smell sometimes. He always claimed I smelled irresistibly of freesia.

Those cold stone lips pressed to my forehead, and I couldn't help the sigh that fell from my lips.

"Edward…"

"Don't move, Bella," he whispered. A few more of my pounding heartbeats later, he finally opened his eyes and smiled down at me.

I smirked up at him, and my voice took on a slightly accusing tone. "I thought you weren't thirsty. You don't look it."

"For you, Bella, I'm always thirsty," Edward's velvet voice promised, sincere as always. "Always."

I shook my head at him ruefully. "You are something else."

"Am I?" he teased, arching a bronze brow over one butterscotch eye. He stared into the depths of my eyes, as though he could see straight through me, into my soul. Which he could not, I knew for a fact, and I knew it used to bother him endlessly. Now he just saw it as a bit of a challenge. Something that made me a bit more me. Not only was I irresistible to him, but I was a puzzle.

His favorite puzzle, he'd told me once. I stretched a little closer, so the tips of our noses brushed.

"You are."

"And you are such a temptress, Bella Swan," he murmured. His cool fingers traced tiny, slow circles along my spine. Just when I thought my heart couldn't beat any faster, it kicked into overdrive. Edward Cullen was going to be the death of me. The thought sent a thrill through me.

I waited, our lips a breath away. I couldn't push him. I knew that. Though I didn't have his sense of smell, I certainly could inhale his exquisite, sweet scent. Edward simple smelled better than any person I'd ever met. Ever. And that made it almost OK to be hanging here, waiting for that glorious kiss.

He smiled ever-so-slightly, and then pressed his cool lips to mine. I almost died right then and there, from sheer bliss. I pressed my fingertips into his chest, resisting the urge to suddenly pounce on him. I was getting better at controlling myself. The whole process amused him (and simultaneously frustrated him, I think) to no end.

Cold fingers framed my face, skimming my cheeks, carefully pulling me back far too soon. I wanted to groan in complaint, and almost did.

I never realized how lucky normal couples have it. But then again, normal couples don't have Edward, so they couldn't be all that lucky, could they?

Golden butterscotch eyes glowed at me, searched mine. The faintest of crooked smiles twisted his lips. He trailed one finger down my cheekbone.

"You're beautiful when you're flushed like that," he told me. "No, more than beautiful. Stunning. Breathtaking."

"As if you had any breath to take," I jibed, fighting the embarrassed blush that heated my skin whenever he complimented me. The warmth of his gaze only seemed to accelerate the blushing process.

Edward grinned, flashing gleaming teeth at me. He slid his other hand down to cup my neck, sliding marble fingers down the still-wildly beating pulse that threaded there.

"You're so warm," he marveled in appreciation. He drew me closer again. My heart sped up.

Our lips touched, more briefly this time, but then those god-like, wonderful lips were pressing gently on the apples of my cheeks, my eyelids, my temples, the tip of my nose and ending on my forehead.

And then he was suddenly pushing me up and away again, and I pouted at him. He laughed at me, a full-throated, glorious laugh. "Charlie's coming," he explained.

"Ah," I grumbled in acceptance, wrapping my arms around my knees and drawing them to my chest.

He raked a hand back through his perpetually tousled bronze mop, not bothering to sit up as well. Surely enough, Charlie rapped on my door.

"Bella?"

"Come in," I called.

He stuck his head in, a little taken aback by Edward's presence. "Oh. Hello, Edward."

Edward raised a long white hand in greeting.

Charlie refocused on me. "Bell, did you say you weren't cooking dinner tonight?"

"Right. There's leftovers in the fridge." I confirmed. "Edward and I are going to Port Angeles…?"

His puzzled expression caused me to snort in annoyance.

"I told you this a week ago," I complained. "We're going to go see a movie."

"On a school night?"

"Dad, it's Friday. In the middle of the summer," I pointed out. Edward snickered softly, and I was pretty sure my dad was oblivious to it. I swatted his knee in warning. "What's going on with you?"

He waved off the concern. "Just been a little distracted, work and all," he explained, as if that explained anything. "Well, no matter. Have fun, you two. Edward, I still want her back at a decent hour. Not terribly late."

"Yes, sir," Edward chimed obediently.

Satisfied with that answer, Charlie ducked back out, shutting the door gently behind him.

"OK, well," I sprang off the bed. "I'm going to change so we can go."

Edward smiled beatifically at me, pushed off the comforter. He arched a brow. "What do you need to change outfits for?"

I rolled my eyes. "To look pretty for you, obviously."

When I met his gaze, my heart skipped a beat. Those beautiful topaz eyes positively smoldered at me.

"You always look amazing to me, Bella," he said low, absolutely serious.

I was fighting that blush again. "Compared to _you_, I'm so dull, Edward," I pointed out.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Never," his voice seemed to caress the word.

"But," he continued, rising smoothly. "I will let you change, as you feel so inclined."

"Thank you," I answered, the slightest bit sarcastic. "Now, shoo. I'll be quick, I promise."

"I'll be back in a flash," he promised, throwing me a wink.

My heart stopped again, and I pressed my hand to my chest, inhaling sharply, almost swaying on my feet.

"You have to give me a warning when you're going to do that, Edward Cullen," I warned.

Again, he was perplexed. "Do what?"

"Dazzle me like that."

"I just dazzled you?" he questioned, confused.

"Yes."

"Right then?" Dear, sweet Edward, still confused. Though I told him frequently, he still didn't seem to fully realize the effect he had on women in general, let alone me.

"You _winked_ at me," I accused.

He threw his head back in a delighted laugh, and darted out the window suddenly, leaving nothing but the warm afterglow of his laughter in the room.

Feeling suddenly alone, and suddenly chilled, I wrapped my arms around my torso and turned toward my closet. I ran a hand along the T-shirts, dresses and sweaters hanging there. What to wear? It was the middle of July in Forks, yes, but it never really got warm up here. In fact, at night, it got downright chilly.

I debated wearing something short-sleeved, so that Edward would have to give me his jacket. I loved wrapping myself in that too-large, warm leather coat that held his heavenly scent. But he would probably call me out on it, not wanting me to catch a cold, and insist I take something of my own. Or would he just smirk and hand me his coat?

He thought I was hard to predict, but his moods shifted quicker than the winds did up here.

I grabbed the simple blue sweater that Edward always seemed to love when I wore. I'll admit, it did look nice with my complexion and hair. It was one of my more flattering pieces, I thought, excluding the stylish (and very expensive) clothing Alice had bought me in California. I smoothed a hand down the front, picking off a stray tuft of lint.

Dark jeans would keep it classy enough to allow me to at least trail in awe of Edward's brilliant presence. I hated to look drab next to him, but really, he would always outshine me. And I loved him for it.

I grabbed the pearls my mom had sent me for some random occasion, fumbling slightly with the clasp behind my neck.

"Allow me," Edward breathed, suddenly behind me, startling me, and I jumped.

I nearly dropped the pearls, and he chuckled, amused as always at my jumpiness. His cold fingers found mine and one granite hand pushed away my cloud of dark hair. He locked the clasp effortlessly, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I could feel his nearness, his solid chest only a hairsbreadth away from my back, feel his cool breath fanning across the nape of my neck.

He nuzzled the corner where my neck met my shoulder, and my breath caught. Cold lips pressed a chaste kiss on the same spot, and then he was spinning me around and into his arms. I clasped my arms around his chest, letting him draw me into his iron-strong embrace.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that," I muttered.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "You'd think a girl like that would catch on eventually."

"Whatever, Stealthy McStealtherson."

He released me suddenly, seizing my smaller hand in his. "Let's go. We haven't got all night."

"Yes, we do," I corrected absently, reaching for my purse, even though I didn't need it. Edward would never let me pay, a fact that frustrated me to no end. So what that he had endless resources of money? It didn't feel right for him to always be wasting it on me.

Not that he had anything better to do with it.

"You should get a hobby," I'd told him once.

"I have one," he'd protested. "Collecting cars, remember?"

Ah, the Aston Martin. James Bond's sweet ride.

"Another hobby," I'd told him, exasperated.

"You are my other hobby," he shot back, only half-kidding, I'd thought.

He was already tugging me down the stairs and practically out the door.

"Bye, Dad," I hollered. "See you later! Have fun fishing tomorrow!"

"Bye, Bells! Edward!" Charlie answered from the kitchen.

"Bye, Charlie," he answered back, opening the front door and guiding me out. His shimmery silver Volvo was parked in the driveway. For a brief moment, I debated trying to convince him to let me drive my truck, but I knew he would never have it.

His driving still terrified me. I know I'm perfectly safe when he's behind the wheel – he's hands down the best driver I've ever seen – but there's something about seeing the speedometer nearing 120 mph that makes my blood run cold. It'll take some getting used to, I guess.

Edward opened the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. As I swung in, he shrugged out of his tan jacket and tossed it onto my lap, flashing me a devilish grin.

"You'll be cold," he said in gentle explanation.

My brow furrowed. "But we're only going to Port Angeles…Edward?"

Lightning-quick, he was already settling into his seat, clicking my seatbelt into place. He never wore his. Hypocrite.

"Change of plans," he answered matter-of-factly, in his soft velvet voice.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

I bit my lower lip, chewed thoughtfully. "All right."

He stopped suddenly, head whipping around to look at me with incredulous (and incredible) eyes. "All right?" he echoed, stunned.

I giggled. "Yup."

"You're not going to badger me for answers, beg and plead and whine and tease me until I have no choice but to divulge my master plan?" He sounded almost crestfallen, if not disappointed.

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "Surprise me, Mr. Cullen."

He blew out a sigh, scratching along his scalp thoughtfully. "I will never understand you, Isabella Swan."

"Makes two of us," I agreed happily.

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Short, but sweet, I know. I had to lay the groundwork for the rest of the story. Part No. 2 will be posted on four days from today, probably late at night. Expect it Thursday.

Thirsty for more? Hate it? Do comment.


	2. You took me where?

**Disclaimer: **As always, I do not own this world nor these characters, nor do I profit.

**Note:** Part two, a day late (Apologies.)... enjoy :)

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The drive flew by, and not just because we were practically flying due to Edward's need for speed.

We took turns drilling each other with questions, as if we were determined to know every last little bit about the other. Well, we were.

Favorite cartoon show? "Darkwing Duck," he had said without hesitation.

City you'd most like to visit? "London," I had answered.

His favorite animal (hunting excluded)? "Still the mountain lion," he had admitted.

Favorite superhero? "You," I had said automatically. Then the words registered, and I flushed.

Edward had looked at me oddly. "I'm not a superhero, Bella," he said seriously.

"You are to me," I had mumbled, still embarrassed.

"No, Bella. I'm a bad guy, the villain, the _monster_ –"

"No, Edward," I had interrupted, suddenly finding inspiration and my stride. "You've saved my life countless times. But not just from the danger I attract, either. You've saved my life from the _doldrums_ it would have been. You've saved me from having no one to love, ever. You saved my life."

His eyes burned at me, as if he was trying to discern what my mind was thinking. No, not as if. He was. But, of course, he couldn't.

"But—"

"No," I cut him off firmly. "You're _my hero._ More than that. My everything. My heart beats only for you."

As soon as I'd said it, I realized the true irony behind that last sentence. Because yes, my heart surely did beat for him now, but as soon as I could change, as soon as I could convince him or anyone of his family members to bite me, my heart would be stilled for him as well.

He was staring away from me now, actually watching the road for a change.

"You're my everything, too," he had murmured silkily. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say he sounded…oddly half-broken, and half-contemplative. "You're all I've ever wanted."

I smiled slowly, again marveling at how we were destined, fated to be together. At how deeply I loved him. (He always said he loved me more than I loved him, which I found to be completely absurd, because my love for him was unfathomable. And how could he love me?)

But he did.

"So, favorite era of time to live in?" I said, trying to backpedal from the seriousness we'd fallen into.

Liquid eyes narrowed at me. "_Obviously_ right now, here with you, silly Bella."

I giggled. "Just checking."

"Waste of a question, if you ask me," he teased, flashing me pearly whites. "But if you could live in any era, what would you have picked?"

"Ooh, that's tough," I scrunched up my face in thought. "I would have liked to see Chicago in your day, Edward. With you."

He smiled faintly. "You probably wouldn't have liked it. Too dressy for you."

I arched a brow. "Alice is starting to change my perspective on fashion."

His full, boisterous laugh echoed in the car. "I'd say don't tell her, but she already knows," he grinned. "Your future is encouraging her. You're like this giant doll she can dress up."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "I knew it! There's no stopping her now, is there?"

"I'd put my money on Alice when she says you're going to love dressing up."

I shook my head, still buried in my hands.

Long, icy fingers gently pried my hands away, finding their way under my chin and forcing my rueful gaze to his charmed one.

"Believe me when I say I've seen what she sees," Edward spoke. "And you look _breathtaking_."

I ducked my chin to press my lips to his palm, unable to resist the impulse. If he'd let me, my lips wouldn't leave the perfect planes of his body until I'd tasted every inch. One day.

One day, when I was like him. Then he wouldn't need to be such a perfectly controlled gentleman. We would be able to let our fiery passion consume each other.

I couldn't wait. Soon. It would hopefully be soon.

His hand pulled away from me, nimbly toying with the radio, and suddenly a classic Edward song thundered in the speakers. I recognized the tune instantly, and we both sang, rocking out to our hearts' content.

Edward had a perfect singing voice. I hadn't been surprised to learn that, although when I first heard him sing, softly, only to me, I had gone weak-kneed. He was musical, I'd known that when he composed my lullaby, and how that honeyed velvet voice could sing!

The clock on Edward's dash betrayed that we had spent nearly two hours in the car. Nearly two hours at the speed he drives meant we could be anywhere. I really hadn't been paying attention to our bearings at all.

Our seemingly incessant questions paused for a comfortable lapse of conversation.

I admired his profile for a long moment, unable to stop my eyes from tracking along his chiseled features, down the straight slope of his nose, over those cold marble lips, and back up again. He had become happier, more carefree and playful, than I'd seen in a long while. Perhaps ever.

The thought warmed me. Although I'd take him anyway I could get him, I much preferred almost-giddy Edward to brooding, crabby Edward.

"So, not that I don't think that sweater is the most marvelous piece of clothing you could wear," he began suddenly. "You look lovely, you really do. But I have something else for you."

He reached into the back seat, produced a box that he pressed into my hands.

"What's this?" I questioned.

"Alice picked it out for you. Put it on. You're a little… underdressed," he said carefully.

"Underdressed for what?" I was instantly suspicious, and my fingers dove through a layer of fine tissue. I found a silky, floaty black straps…of a slinky black dress.

"You'll see," Edward's crushed velvet voice said, evasive as always.

I pulled the dress out, held it at arm's length for an attempt to give it a disapproving once-over. But I couldn't. Even just clutched in my fingers, it looked lovely. Alice had great taste. And that's when he set another box in my lap.

Shoes.

I peeked under the lid.

"Edward, no," I said firmly. "Absolutely not."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you going to wear your sneakers with the dress, then?"

"Maybe."

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll look ridiculous."

"But, Edward, _heels_?" I complained. "Is your goal for the evening to land me in the ER? That's real romantic. You know me, always a sucker for IV drips and pain meds."

He shot me a relieved look. "Now there's the Bella I've been missing," he proclaimed with exaggerated relief. "Brilliantly witty, sharply sarcastic, protesting niceties and everything."

He paused. "Humor me?"

I harrumphed. But I wasn't all that annoyed, really. I mean, I hated when he bought me things…he shouldn't be wasting money (even if it was endless) on me. Though, if anything, my curiosity was really starting to burn now. Why the dress?

"Besides," he continued, "If nothing else, you'll get to see me in a tuxedo again."

I licked my lips at the mere thought of his sculpted body in that midnight tuxedo he wore to prom. "That's good motivation. I think I'll wear the dress."

He chose that moment to dazzle me with one of his wide, crooked grins. "Excellent. I knew you'd see it my way."

I seized the opportunity to question our destination. "Will you tell me where we're going now?"

Edward made a big show of struggling with deliberation and finally acquiescing. He heaved a sigh. "Oh, all right. I suppose you've waited long enough to know."

"Really?" I squealed.

"No." He laughed.

I pouted my lower lip, and I noted with satisfaction the minute tensing of his brawny frame.

"You really shouldn't do that when I'm driving, Bella," he warned, and the look in those tawny butterscotch eyes made my heart flutter.

" 'I have perfect concentration,'" I quoted back at him in my best Edward-impression. " 'I won't turn us into a Volvo pretzel.' 'This is how I always drive.'"

He shook his head ruefully, and then suddenly we were decelerating, and then he pulled over into a little pull-off on the roadside. A thrill raced up my spine. What was he doing? My glorious Edward turned to face me, reaching out to caress my jawline with the faintest of cool touches.

"I hope you don't mind," he murmured softly. "But you'll have to change in the car. I don't think you'll want to change in the restaurant."

"We're still going out to eat?" I snapped out of the daze his touch had put me in.

"Of course," he said, sounding affronted. "_You_ still need to eat."

His long arms stretched back into the back seat, producing an armful of neatly pressed dark clothing. "I'm going to go change. I'll be back. Make it quick. I don't want to be late for our reservation."

"You made a reservation?" I asked, impressed. "Well, I'm sure your driving will make up for any lost time right now."

"Naturally." He leaned in slowly, turning as he did so to lightly touch his lips to the top of my cheekbone. I wanted to reach out and twine my fingers into his thick bronze hair, but I fought the urge.

Then he was out the door, disappearing into thick pines.

It only took a few minutes to awkwardly shrug out of my sweater and jeans and pull the fine black dress over my head. Alice, as always, had impeccable taste and a perfect eye for my size. As best as I could tell, the dress was fantastically flattering. It was a sleeveless number, with wide straps and a V-neck. It gathered at the sides of the waist for an ultimate hourglass figure, and would probably flow to just at my knees.

The shoes weren't that high, but they'd still probably give me trouble. At least I could brace myself against Edward and use him to help me keep my wobbly knees and ankles upright.

I peered at my reflection in the little mirror on the sun visor. Renee's pearls were a good choice. I tussled my hair, fluffed it a tad and smiled.

Simple, and yet shockingly elegant. I slipped Edward's jacket back on, understanding now why he said I'd need it.

He returned several long heartbeats later. I knew he would have ventured far enough away to not see anything – it would be too dangerous, he would assume – and then have to guess how long it would take me to change. His Volvo wasn't the easiest thing to get dressed in.

He looked me up and down with an approving, appreciative look.

I blushed. "How do I look?"

"Good enough to eat," he said honestly. I tried not to shiver. The thought of Edward nipping along my throat had my pulse racing…but kissing me was a strictly lips-and-tongue-only affair. And even then, he was extremely cautious.

I reached over casually to run my hand down his arm, loving the strong feel of his muscles under the tuxedo jacket beneath my fingers. When my fingers finished their slow foray down the muscled expanse, finishing at the wrist of his jacket cuffs, he seized my hand, turned it palm up, and brought it to his face. Edward nuzzled the tender, blue-veined inside of my wrist, inhaling as he did so. His eyes slid shut for a moment, and I could not take my eyes off him.

He touched a kiss to the spot, eyes shifting to meet mine.

The temperature in his Volvo seemed to have kicked up at least 20 degrees.

And then he dropped my wrist and started the car again, and we were off.

"I'll have to give Alice grief over her part in the obvious conspiracy to get me into heels," I declared.

Edward raised an eyebrow. "She said you'd say that. She also said you'd forgive her before the night was over, and possibly even thank her."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm."

"We'll see," I responded.

"That we will," he agreed.

My thoughts flickered to his tiny, dark-haired sister. Fashionable clothing should consider itself lucky that it didn't bleed, because Alice would be powerless against its pull. She already was. And her attempts to inspire in me a longing for high fashion were unsuccessful…but I was starting to warm to these new gifts. Even if Edward instructed her to buy me something. I mean, she had incredible taste.

Well, she should. She had my size down, and always foresaw what would make me happy and look fabulous.

"Did Alice say anything else about this evening that I should be aware of?"

"Nope," Edward grinned. "Just that we're going to have a perfectly grand time this evening."

I still had no idea where we were headed. I'm guessing Edward didn't clear it with Charlie, either, so it must either be somewhere Charlie would never have approved of, or… simply that he didn't feel the need to ask.

I figured he knew Charlie would never have let us go if he knew where Edward was taking us.

Which only marginally narrowed down the options. California, maybe? Charlie had no idea how fast Edward drove. Otherwise, he'd never let me drive with my boyfriend, safe driver or not.

I let myself be distracted again by the tuxedo-clad vampire sitting next to me. It was probably a good thing he rarely wore the sharp, black suit. It accentuated his perfectly fit form, and he looked good in black. He rarely wore black. In fact, the first time I had ever seen him in black was for prom.

But this tuxedo…the urge to jump him stirred my blood. He was beyond just smoldering and sexy. More like, purely seductive. From the top of his constantly disarrayed bronze hair to this toes, he exuded appeal. Even his scent was mouthwatering.

I sighed happily, earning myself a quizzical gaze from Edward. He beamed at me.

It wasn't long before he slowed again to a more-reasonable speed, and that's when I caught a road sign.

"Vancouver?" I gasped. "You took me to _Canada_?"

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Loved it? Hated it? Do comment back.

Next post will be Tuesday night.


	3. Dinner and wow

**Author's note:** Thank you for your kind reviews! I hope I still am staying as close to in character as possible...

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I was fairly sure that leaving the country would not have been an OK date idea by Charlie's standards

I was fairly sure that leaving the country would not have been an OK date idea by Charlie's standards. But we had never _really_ established those sorts of boundaries. Plus, Vancouver was 6 hours away, when you're driving at a reasonable, law-abiding speed limit.

Two and a half hours to Vancouver? We made great – no _incredible_ – time. Edward was so hard on his car's engine – not that I know anything about car engines, of course – but to always drive that fast… well, then again Rosalie apparently was the brilliant mechanic in the family, although Edward knew almost as much as she did. I'm guessing she kept his car in top-notch condition.

Dinner was delicious. I had some sort of pasta, spinach and veal concoction. We were going to split it, he had told our waitress, who seemed disappointed at the notion. He always had that effect on the wait staff, as if they couldn't believe he was with me.

As if they expected him to suddenly up and leave me, in the middle of our date, for them.

And it wasn't just the women waitresses, either. I'd even seen a guy or two dazzled by him. _Guys_. Usually, despite his utterly charming, pleasant demeanor, guys seemed to loathe Edward instantly. It was like they knew he never had to work for his six-pack, and that he barely had to wink at girls to get their attention and then they practically threw themselves at him.

Like our waitress. Who had almost tripped bringing the plate of pasta, and almost spilled my Coke on me in the process. Edward, with his lightning-fast reflexes, made the quick save. Is it considered reflexes, though, when you can read the person's thoughts and recognize when they're about to misstep out of distraction?

We didn't split the dish, of course. I quickly realized how ravenous I was – I hadn't eaten since a peanut butter sandwich at lunch – and practically devoured the entirety of the dish myself.

Edward simply sat across from me, in our secluded little booth, and watched me with a charming, disarming grin. Our knees were almost touching. I felt so drawn to his presence that I almost sat on the edge of my seat to brush my legs against his. I knew he'd pull back, though, so I restrained myself. I didn't want that little twinge of rejection, even if he wasn't rejecting me…he was just resisting to avoid enticing his second nature.

See, I did have self-control. I was working on it. He would be proud…or endlessly amused. Possibly both.

He had made reservations, I discovered, weeks in advance. He had been planning this little surprise foray north of the border for over a month. He still hadn't told me what we were doing in Vancouver, though. It wasn't like this was his favorite restaurant. He didn't eat human food.

I had only been to Vancouver once, as a child, with my mom. We had come here to go…shopping, I think. And just to see the sights. It was a beautiful city, and at night, the lights glittered fantastically.

After dinner, we walked along the cool streets, and I breathed in the faintly damp air. It was completely cloudy out, but still pretty light out. The sun set so late up here, keeping a grey illumination in the skies more often than not.

We were going to take the SkyTrain to…wherever. It didn't matter. I wasn't paying all too much attention. I was just enjoying the sights, and enjoying Edward's arm around me. The next train would be a few minutes, and so we stood in the cool evening, my hands tucked into the pockets of his tan coat.

He suddenly whipped his phone out. Though it was on silent, he must have known someone was calling. He flashed me an apologetic look, and stepped a few feet away, talking so quietly and quickly that I couldn't make a out anything he said.

I stared out across the tracks, charmed by the city.

Someone stumbled heavily into my personal space, leering at me. I recoiled back, startled, as I looked at the brawny bulk of someone who was decidedly not Edward, and decidedly smelling of alcohol.

"Hey, sexy," he greeted, slurring a little. "Where you off to?"

Wide-eyed, I opened my mouth to speak. My mind, flashing back to that night in Port Angeles when Edward had saved me, panicked and my heart rate leapt instantly.

"She's with me," Edward appeared suddenly, his voice cold and stiff. His fingertips pressed lightly at the small of my back, protective, if not a tad possessive. I shifted closer to him, grateful he appeared when he did.

The man sullenly eyed us, as if trying to weigh his chances. I jutted my chin out in a half-challenge, reaching up to rest my hand lightly against Edward's rock-solid six-pack.

I watched Edward glare the guy down, annoyance clearly written across his striking, perfect features.

"Leave, now," he commanded in a steely voice. I watched the man half-skulk, half-stumble off.

I felt the intensity of the tawny eyes gazing down on me before I even looked up. "Are you all right?"

I swallowed, pressing my face into his chest. I was partly embarrassed that I panicked so immediately, when Edward was literally only a few feet away. It was foolish. I was safe here, safe with him, safer than I'd ever been.

Safer than I'd ever be.

His cold, stone arms wrapped around me securely, cradling my close and locking me there. He rested his chin atop my head. "I shouldn't have stepped away," he whispered, apologetically. "Forgive me."

Without even looking up, I smacked my palm against his unforgiving chest. "Shut up," I growled. "You were three feet away, for 30 seconds."

"I won't leave your side again tonight. You always did have a penchant for trouble, Bella," he mused, dryly amused. "I don't understand how any one person can have such a draw on the forces of danger. How you survived to 17 is beyond me."

"Hey, I never had this problem until I came to Forks," I protested.

"Is that so?" He didn't believe me.

I rolled my eyes. "Believe what you will."

Despite myself, I couldn't help but grin up at him, tilting back into his chest again.

And then he glanced down at me, amber eyes dancing. "See, I told you, you dazzle people, too."

I giggled, poked him in the ribs. "I do not. Sketchy drunks do not count."

"You're dazzling _me_ right now," he clarified.

"Ah," I said, lost in his gaze. I felt that familiar flush creep up. He leaned to press his marble lips against my forehead, holding them there.

We shared a smile. His crooked grin took my breath away.

I remembered why he had stepped away for the briefest span of moments. "So, who called?"

He was a little too casual in response, and I noticed the subtle tightening around his eyes. "Oh, just Alice. It was nothing important."

" 'Just Alice'?" I repeated, instantly on guard.

"Yes. She saw something about Jasper," he elaborated.

"And?" I demanded.

"She wanted to know what he was thinking."

"And?" I demanded again.

"Pushy tonight, Bella," he teased, his fingers combing through my hair. "And we discussed the options."

He kissed the tip of my nose, and then my forehead. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

He feathered a kiss on my lips. I gasped at the sensation, feeling tingles race down my spine and back up.

"You think you're being so clever, Edward," I gritted out through shallow breathing, trying so hard to stay focused. "But really, I see right through you."

"Oh?" He arched a bronze brow. He leaned in again, brushing his cold lips against my cheekbone, dragging them along my jawline. A cool kiss touched my earlobe, and my betraying body shivered.

He started to kiss his way down my throat, punctuating every time his lips broke from my skin with a word.

"And…what…do…you…see?" After the last word, his previously close-lipped assault on my senses turned wicked. His lips parted, and Edward swirled his tongue over the spot where my neck met my shoulder.

I gasped, my hands having somehow come up to seize the tops of his shoulders in a deathgrip. I was practically panting, and my knees were definitely quaking. It was no fair that he could have such an obvious effect on me.

His icy tongue traced back up my throat, right along where my pulse pounded, and I barely reigned in the moan that threatened to tear from my lips. It came out a strangled whimper instead.

Our lips met.

And then the SkyTrain whooshed into to the station. I groaned in frustration, and Edward smirked, looking particularly smug. Although, he seemed a little short of breath, too.

Too quickly, he stepped back, offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

I grinned up at him, looping my arm through his proffered one. "Let's go."

We weren't the only people on the train, but as I nestled against his side and gazed out the window, the other passengers faded from my awareness. All I could think of was Edward's arm loosely draped over my shoulders, drawing me closer to his lean frame.

If he had brought me to Vancouver simply to take me out to dinner and snuggle with me on public transportation, I would be perfectly, ecstatically happy with just that. I already was floating on Cloud 9…even in heels.

But Edward was far too perfect for this to be the pinnacle event of the evening. Perfect was the understatement of the century. I still have no idea what I ever did to maybe even possible deserve the teensiest bit of him, let alone all of his stunning, majestic, beautiful, polite, smoldering self.

It was only a few stops to our exit, and I reluctantly had to pry myself away from his side to disembark. He led the way down to the street, never releasing my hand. He seemed to glow with such exquisite happiness.

We strolled down the steps to the sidewalk, now hand in hand. I loved the feeling of his long, chilly fingers twined with mine, and I swung our interlaced hands back and forth, keeping with the lazy pace of our walk.

No words were necessary.

"Ooof!" My heel – damn high heels – caught on a crack in the sidewalk and I stumbled, caught instantaneously by the brace of Edward's steely arms.

My wide-eyed surprised look met his chagrined one. I chewed on my lower lip and sighed in semi-resignation. I wondered briefly if, when I became a vampire, I would gain that impossible grace and fluidity of movement with which the entirety of the Cullen clan (and all vampires) seemed to possess.

With my luck, probably not.

"So, where are we going, again? I hope we get there soon," I grumbled. "Damn heels."

He chuckled, reluctantly releasing me from his arms so we could continue our saunter.

"Don't worry. I won't let you break your ankle on the way. It's right ahead," he assured me. "Shall I tell you now?"

"It's why I asked, silly."

He practically glowed, stopping us, catching my other hand in his. He lifted both to his lips, and kissed the tops of each, his warm stare never deviating from mine. Perfection. If there was perfection to be found in a man on earth, Edward Cullen was it.

Not that he was a man, really, but that was beside the point. The golden streetlamp seemed to catch in his liquid topaz eyes, and the rest of light cast his face into sharp, beautiful relief. Edward was glorious by day, and it was only fitting that night should make him all the more beautiful. But I disliked the darkness, for it kept more of him from my sight.

My heart rate was beginning to pick up as I roamed his face, searching for an inkling of a clue to our destination.

"The Vancouver Symphony Orchestra is playing some selections of Debussy tonight," he finally revealed.

My jaw dropped open in surprise. I had been effectively rendered speechless.

He rewarded my astonishment with a full-throated chuckle. "You're pleased?"

A long finger reached to close my gaping mouth. As soon as the cool press of his fingertip disappeared, my jaw flopped open again.

"Pleased?" I echoed, finding my voice. "Edward, you're amazing!"

He flashed perfect, bright whites down at me. "I believe you've mentioned that before, yes."

"I've always wanted to hear Debussy played live," I continued. "How did you – Alice?"

Edward shrugged minimally, trying to downplay his motivations and still seem casual. "She saw you here, loving it, after I made the decision of course. Your classical CD collection reminded me that Carlisle and Esme have season tickets to the orchestra, not that they venture up here often. When I checked the schedules, and saw Debussy on the concert series, I thought it would be a reasonable excuse to leave town."

"A reasonable excuse," I repeated, shaking my head. "Wow."

"I didn't think Charlie would let me take you out of the country, even if it was to hear your favorite classical composer played live. So I figured it was best to leave him in the dark. Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission. We _are_ having a wonderful evening in Port Angeles, aren't we?"

"Boy, are we ever," I agreed enthusiastically. We gazed into each other's eyes for I don't know how long. Not that long, because I stretched up on my tiptoes, suddenly impatient.

"Kiss me, Edward?" my voice had a definite begging quality to it.

"How could I resist?" he murmured, voice velvet as always, releasing one hand to slide it up my arm, cool fingertips brushing across my throat to cup my chin.

Dizzily, I thought to myself that him kissing me was not going to help my clumsiness-in-heels problem. If he kept it up, he would have to carry me to the performance.

Oh, I wanted more. That was pretty much the last coherent thought I had before his tongue slipped into my mouth.

.+.+.+ .+.+.+ .+.+.+.+.+.+

Our seats were perfect, on the upper level, with a perfect view of the stage. I was enchanted with the elaborate, gilded performance hall.

Edward's lips were at the shell of my ear. "If you like the Orpheum, you would have loved the Chicago theatre back in its heyday. My family had a private box."

I smiled. "You'll have to take me there some day."

"Some day," he agreed. I could hear his deep inhalation, felt him nuzzle my hair slightly as he savored my scent.

The soft cacophony of the orchestra tuning their instruments washed over us. I peered over the edge (our seats were in the front row of the upper balcony) and watched intently as graceful musicians prepared for the show. Edward was watching too, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Do you know why I like Debussy?" his voice was a low, husky murmur in my ear.

I shook my head, spellbound by the scene below."No. Tell me."

He pulled away slightly, and I looked to him, settling into the butterscotch depths of his gaze. His cool hand clasped mine gently.

"The very first symphony I ever went to," he said softly, "was Debussy."

I waited patiently. He gave me a beautiful, kind of crooked half-smile.

"It was in November. The air was crisp, because the leaves were changing and the wind would whirl through and swirl fallen leaves in explosions of crinkly reds, golds and browns."

I was hanging on his every word, mesmerized by his gorgeous face. By his simple story, vivid in its descriptions.

"Thanksgiving was just around the corner. It was November 19th, if my memory serves me correctly. I loved autumn, and I was terribly excited to finally go to the symphony."

He paused.

"My mother took me. I was nine," he finally continued, watching me closely, as if he were expecting me to be horrified by that little admission. I wasn't. I was charmed, imagining a little Edward practically bouncing off the walls from excitement. And I was touched that he was sharing this bit of his old life, his human life, with me. He so rarely opened up about it.

His eyes dropped from mine for a second to study out hands, and then his bright gaze was back on mine, intently, as though he were trying to probe my thoughts.

"I had never felt so grown up in my entire life, Bella," he confessed. "My father always took my mother, and I would always beg to go along, never wanting to stay with the nanny. And finally, one day, he agreed to give me his ticket and take my mother to the symphony. I wore my best tuxedo, and my father had taken me into his study and smoothed my lapels and told me how it was my job to escort my mother, and that it was my job to make sure nothing happened to her. I promised him that I would behave and keep my mother safe."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. How endearing, a tiny Edward in a tuxedo, promising to keep his mother safe. His expression seemed to warm, seeing me smile.

"And she looked beautiful that night," Edward said. "I'll never forget it. She wore the most fashionable cream dress at the time, accented with a burnt orange that set off her bronze hair. Her hair was elaborately pinned back, and her eyes – my eyes were the same color emerald – just sparkled as we traveled downtown. She was an incredibly elegant woman. She would have loved you and your clumsiness."

My eyes flashed him a sarcastic thanks, but I was unable to actually defend myself against his teasing barb.

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "So we went and saw the Chicago Symphony Orchestra perform the _Suite bergamasque_ and selections from his newest composition, _Images_."

I couldn't even imagine hearing a brand-new composition by Debussy fresh and live like that. To have lived in that time. How fanciful. How wonderful.

"It was the only time I ever got to go to symphony with my mother," his voice had dropped so softly that I wasn't sure he'd even spoken. "It's why I love to go. It's almost as if I can see her, hear her laughter, feel her smooth my hair."

My throat suddenly constricted with emotion. Had he really just admitted that?

But the way he was suddenly staring down at our hands again made me confident that he had. I reached over with my free hand to cup his cheek, guide his gaze back to me.

"Edward," I murmured, blinking back the light veil of tears that threatened to spill. My heart broke for him.

Instantly he realized what he'd done. "I'm sorry," the words tumbled from his marble lips. "It's a happy memory, really. I didn't mean to upset –"

"Shhh," I cut him off, pressing my index finger to his lips. "No. I'm so glad you told me. It was a beautiful story."

His hesitant gaze bored into mine.

I raised our joined hands to my lips and kissed the tops of his knuckles, one by one. "I'm so glad you told me," I repeated.

Either the lighting just dimmed, or his eyes just darkened, and suddenly I felt much too hot. My blood seemed to simmer under his gaze.

Suddenly the cool fingers of his left hand were sliding around to cup the back of my neck, and we were drifting together. I inhaled his delicious scent, my lips parting just slightly in anticipation.

He kissed me slow and tender, a gentle exploration of my lips. Edward's tongue, smooth as ice, glided along my bottom lip, and I parted my lips a bit wider in invitation.

He pressed closer, slightly pushing me back into the seat now and yet simultaneously almost crushing me to him. It was a thorough kiss. More thorough than he'd ever been before. My head was spinning dizzily.

And then he was withdrawing, earning the softest of protests from me. My vision swam before my eyes as I hungrily sucked in a desperate breath.

"Thank you." He nuzzled my collarbone, pausing to listen to my heartbeat. Somehow my fingers had twined their way into his thick, soft hair. Somehow he let me, and it was all I could do to hold still.

I silently gaped, trying to calm my jagged breathing. He had such an effect on me and my poor senses.

My eyes fluttered shut. The softest of cold kisses touched the hollow of my throat, and his hands were pulling mine from his hair. He withdrew, though he kept hold of one of my hands.

The symphony's first movement began.

--

Next post will be Friday night! See you all then ... remember, if you loved/hated/have any range of emotions whatsoever about my story so far, I'd love to hear them!


	4. One, two, three, four

**Author's note: **Thank you again for all of your kind reviews! I do apologize for being late in this update. There was a relatively minor crisis at work that blossomed into a bigger one and resulted in the overall upheaval of my entire weekend.

Perhaps you'll start to see the beginnings of a plot here. Because, you know, it can't be a true Twilight-saga-esque story without there being danger and etc.

--

We were somewhere in the third movement of the first half when I became aware again of Edward's keen gold eyes studying my face.

I fought that heated blush as I felt him lightly trace down the side of my face, lovingly tucking a lock of brown hair behind my ear. My breathing quickened.

Edward smiled radiantly at me, his voice an eager whisper. "I've got an idea. Would you care to explore the Orpheum a bit with me?"

"Love to," I said, slipping my hand in his. "Lead the way."

He ushered me out and away, a mischievous look lighting his handsome features. Slightly muffled, but still, rich, harmonies echoed through the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

He awarded me a look of superior planning, smug in that way of his. "You'll see."

My pulse picked up in excitement.

That's when he opened the door to a…storage closet.

My eyes narrowed. "A closet, Edward?"

He arched his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware you had a bias against storage closets, Bella."

"I –"

"Get in." His tone was no-nonsense.

I marched in, putting my hands on my hips as I swung around to face him. He shut the door, plunging us into utter darkness, before he clicked the light on.

I surveyed our surroundings. OK, so it wasn't quite a storage closet. More like a storage room. It was bigger than a closet. But not by much.

"Well?"

He shook his head at me. "Oh, ye of little faith," he intoned. He raised one finger to his lips.

My brow furrowed in bewilderment. "What?"

"Shh," he insisted. "Don't you hear it?"

"Hear _what_?" I asked, exasperated.

He rolled his golden eyes toward the ceiling. "The lady is deaf."

"Am I supposed to be hearing something?" I questioned. "Because, all I hear is you, and me, and muffled music."

"Ah," his expression lit up, his eyes locking with mine. "The lady is _not_ deaf, after all."

"I can hear you just fine," I confirmed, tucking that wayward lock of hair behind my ear again.

"I'll have you know, Bella, that storage closets, in addition to being used for storage, are quite useful for other things as well."

A slow smile spread across his face, and I couldn't help but let my lips stretch into a mirroring grin. "Oh," I said softly, understanding dawning.

He paced slowly towards me. His grin hung crookedly and he raked his tawny gaze up and down my body. I resisted the urge to shiver, though he was sending tingles down my spine.

He stopped a breath away, still grinning down at me with that slightly predatory gleam. My heart was in my throat. My knees felt weak already.

"Mmm," he sighed, inhaling deeply as he leaned down.

I licked my lips in anticipation. Our noses brushed, and I could feel his sweet breath fanning across my face.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Although, that would be one very good use for this storage closet."

My breathing was shallow. I forced myself to spit out as coherent of a sentence as possible. "What use did you have in mind, then?"

His large, cold hands rested gently on my hips, drawing me a little closer. His right hand gently took mine and placed it on his shoulder. His left hand skimmed up my side and down my arm to grip my hand. "Why, dancing, of course."

Suddenly, he pulled me off my feet and set me to stand on the tops of his shoes, and we were spinning in a perfect waltz to the orchestra's melody. I gasped, surprised at the sudden movement, and clutched closer to him.

He chuckled, a deep resonance in his chest, and I pressed my face into his neck. "You are…"

"Sneaky, I know," he confirmed.

"Incredible," I managed to say, my senses struggling on overload as I inhaled his perfect scent, felt the press of his perfect body against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that I could barely hear the symphony.

He shifted to see my expression, curious. "You're not mad at me for tricking you into dancing with me?"

I shook my head, too awestruck and enchanted with my close proximity to his flawless body.

He dipped me low, suddenly, unexpectedly. I sucked in a sharp breath, gripping him with my utmost, earning me a low, deep laugh in my ear.

"Silly Bella," he growled playfully. "I won't drop you. Relax."

All too willingly, I practically melted in the brace of his marble arms, letting my head fall back to expose my throat.

In reward, Edward laid a cold, yet burning, trail of kisses along my pulse point. That boy was good. Too good.

He seemed to freeze with his nose gently resting right below my earlobe. I felt his shoulders tense for a flash, and then he righted me, setting me gently on the floor and twirling me out.

I spun, somehow managing to do it gracefully. Well, OK, almost gracefully. Really, Edward was the graceful one.

And then in a whoosh, I was back in his arms, and he was grinning down at me with smoldering toffee eyes underneath his long lashes. But this time, I didn't get pulled back to stand on the tops of his shoes.

"You're dancing this one," he informed me in a husky, velvet tone.

"Your loss," I warned. "I can't dance."

"Hardly," he disagreed. "You're a very good dancer, Bella. Far better than you think."

We spun across the expanse of floor in the storage closet, and I thought I was going to trip into a mop bucket, but Edward dipped me away in the nick of time.

"You know," I sighed breathlessly, "I can't even think straight when you do things like this, let alone dance straight."

His smirk definitely had a devilish edge to it. We glided one, two, three, four, in carefully timed, precise steps. Edward never faltered. He was a smashing dancer, sure of himself and the melody.

I didn't think it was possible to fall even more in love with him, but I was wrong.

Finally, though, after I have no idea how much time… I don't think it was all that much, the orchestra was still playing, after all, but he gathered me in his arms and simply held me. I pressed my face into the smooth marble column of his neck, enjoying hearing his quickened breathing. Unable to resist, I kissed him there, at the hollow of his throat, on his Adam's apple and underneath his jaw.

The hand that had rested on his shoulder slid into the soft, thick hair at the base of his skull, and I trailed my lips along his jawline.

"Bella," he growled low in my ear. "I'd better be getting you into somewhere public. I'm quite dangerous right now, and your behavior is absolutely sinful."

My heartbeat sped up. I shook my head, trying to press myself closer to him. My lips pressed to his throat again. I couldn't help it.

That was too much, though, and suddenly he was prying me off him with one hand, locking both my wrists in his iron grip.

"You are too tempting," he said with a sigh, almost scolding me as a single finger caressed down the side of my face. "I don't know how to make you understand."

"_Make_ me," I pleaded, pouting slightly. "Edward, please. _I_ don't know how to make _you_ understand. Edward…"

I unconsciously licked my lips, and consciously fixed him with my best puppy-eyes look.

I saw his eyes flash, noted their slightly darker shade. And noted the granite set to his jaw, the way his breathing stilled. He frowned at me, supremely disapproving.

I swallowed, guilt welling in my chest for trying to push him. His glowering gaze, radiating frustration and determination, forced me to drop my eyes first. I watched our shoes. His self-control was unnatural. He was singlehandedly the most determined, stubborn person I'd ever met.

And it was all because he loved me too much.

I heard his deep intake of breath finally, and raised my eyes back to his. He lifted one of my hands to his smooth, cold lips. "You are too much, Bella Swan. You think I'm this perfect, impossibly strong being, but I'm not."

His eyes were soft, entrancing as he gazed at me. Edward shook his head slowly. "I'm not," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of my hand.

I watched helplessly as he turned my hand over in his larger ones, sliding his nose along the fine blue veins in my wrist. His cool breath fanned along the sensitive skin there, and suddenly, his lips were there, tasting my heated flesh.

His marble lips opened, and the icy tip of his tongue traced along the paperthin skin there. I was utterly frozen, unable to move if the thought had even occurred to me. He could easily break the skin with his razor sharp teeth, though they were carefully protected by his lips at the moment. Just a little break of the skin, and it would be the death of me.

But the beginning of an eternity with Edward. If he could have read my thoughts, he would have heard me screaming at him in my mind to just bite me already, dammit! Forget the three days of excruciating agony or my family or my humanity.

I needed the venom. I needed the bite.

His onslaught on my senses and my wrist ceased as he withdrew with a wry twist to his lips.

He pressed a cold kiss to my forehead.

And then he was guiding me back out into the corridor, tucking my arm through his. I realized that the music had stopped, that it must be at the interlude. Was there an interlude at orchestras? I had no idea.

"Um," I started to ask.

Edward smiled down at me. "There's a brief interlude with refreshments in the main lobby. You'd like to see it, wouldn't you?"

His voice was tender, almost pleading, and even though I'd much rather have stayed in the storage closet with him, I found myself nodding happily.

As we walked, he pointed out the more features of the building. It was built in the 1920s, apparently, and had been renovated to its former glory.

As we walked the hallway, I tried to envision us in the Orpheum's heyday. I probably would have been stuck in a sequiny, black, shapeless flapper dress in the style of the day. My hair probably would have been bobbed, and Edward would have been just as breathtaking and dashing as he always was.

I was glad I wasn't in the 1920s. I would have hated the flapper look, I think. I grinned despite myself.

We made our way down to the main lobby, and a waitor bearing tall flutes of champagne paused to offer us a drink.

I felt almost scandalized – I don't drink – but Edward smoothly grabbed two flutes, passing one to me.

He clinked his glass against mine, smiling warmly at me. "To Debussy, and a night in Vancouver with the silly, wildly beautiful woman who holds my heart captive."

I felt the blood rush into my face and bloom into a flush as he complimented me. "To Debussy," I agreed, "And the sneakiest date you've ever taken me on. I love it, and I love you."

A wide grin lit Edward's chiseled features. "I'll drink to that."

Intrigued, I watched him raise the glass to his lips, and I'm pretty sure he just moistened his lips with the alcohol.

I sipped at the champagne. It was more bitter than I'd expected, but I somehow managed to not make a face. Edward was watching me speculatively, trying to gauge my reaction to the drink.

"Well?" he prompted.

I shrugged, taking another swallow. "It's all right."

His golden eyes danced in amusement. "They say it's a good vintage."

Affecting the best wine-snob air I could, I turned my nose up slightly. "I've had better."

"Naturally," he agreed.

"The bouquet falls a little flat," I continued. "And it could be sweeter."

At that, he laughed aloud. " 'The bouquet falls a little flat'?"

"Don't you know anything about champagne, Edward?" I responded, still wine-snobby and faux serious.

"Apparently not," he grinned. He touched the glass to his lips again, wetting his lips with the golden liquid. He bent down to quickly sneak a kiss, and I could taste the alcohol on his lips.

He made the champagne taste all the better, sweeter, heady even. Impossibly so.

Edward stepped back again. "You make it taste better," he explained. As if he needed an explanation.

I nodded. "So do you. Kissing champagne from your lips could vanquish my self-control."

"What self-control?" he teased. "Don't be ridiculous. I am your only self-control mechanism."

And he was right. At least when it came to him. I just couldn't help the way my body and mind longed for him, and I certainly didn't want to. I loved being in love with Edward.

I love him, I thought for probably the billionth time that evening. I drained the glass. It hadn't even been half-full to begin with. Why serve it in such tall glasses when you only fill them a half of the way up?

Before I could blink, I was suddenly holding another flute, and he was cradling my empty one.

My eyes narrowed. "Edward Cullen, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk so you could later steal my virtue."

He laughed again, a full-throated melodious sound. "Oh, that's _definitely_ part of my master plan, Bella. As if you needed any convincing, or seduction for that matter."

I giggled at his sarcasm.

We stood there, grinning at each other like idiots in love. I wondered how much I'd have to drink before it went to my head.

And that was the precise moment that all hell broke loose.

--

_Dun dun DUN! Like it? Hate it? Do review. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Not again

**A/N: Thank you to all for your kind words and reviews! Apologies for taking so long to update; work and life has nearly overwhelmed me.  
**

**- - **

Chapter 5: Not again

_And that was the precise moment that all hell broke loose. _

Or rather, that was the moment that the evening took a turn for the pretty much worst. All hell breaking loose might have been a bit of an exaggeration.

A loud crash and clatter of glass preceded a woman's shrill shriek.

Edward stopped mid-sentence, head swinging immediately in the direction of the sound. The source was not so far from us, the accident clearly visible.

Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, _no_. There was blood. Oh, there was a lot of blood.

This was not good for either of us. I felt the world start spinning as I took in the bright red pooling on the floor. The woman's arm, sliced painfully, was bleeding profusely. Some waiter had tripped, or stumbled, or somehow otherwise collided with an elegantly dressed mid-30-something woman clad in a flowing golden gown.

And the glasses were shattered. And there was blood mixing with the puddle of champagne, staining her dress mottled pink.

I tore my gaze away, panting shallow breaths to stave off the stars sparkling my eyesight, and the blackness that threatened to drag me under. I would not faint. I would not throw up. I would not, I would not, I would not.

Edward still hadn't moved a centimeter from where he stood. He wasn't breathing. Just simply staring stonily.

"Edward," I hissed, panic bubbling in my throat. I tugged at his elbow, though I might as well have been trying to pull a brick wall along with me. "Edward, let's _go_."

He was frozen, inscrutable, staring at the accident. At the blood. If he could resist me, his ultimate temptation (or so he claimed), surely he could walk away from this. His alabaster brow furrowed in a dark scowl.

"Edward, please," I begged.

He shifted suddenly, smoothly tucking me behind his body in that all-too-familiar protective stance. A low growl rumbled in his throat, barely audible. That's when I saw it. I knew it immediately when my eyes fell upon it. There was another vampire here, another one of their kind, in ethereal, terrible glory. His charcoal eyes might as well have been neon signs screaming "I'm a vampire!" at me. He was striding confidently toward the woman, fluidly through the crowd, with an unnatural grace.

My heart stopped.

I couldn't tear my eyes away, though my stomach was churning again the sight of red blood dripping down the woman's arm. I breathed in through my nose out, out through my mouth, deep and steady, in an effort to quell the nausea.

Was he just going to sink his teeth into the woman, or the waiter? Expose himself for all of his terrible nature?

The silver-haired vampire sank gracefully to the ground. "I'm a doctor," he said, loudly enough to be heard over the murmurs of the crowd that had gathered. "Allow me to look at it."

I felt a tremble beginning to stir in my knees. Another vampire. Here.

It was as if there was no one else here, other than Edward and I, and the silver-haired vampire and his victim. I stared over Edward's arm, still barring me from moving to stand even next to him. Edward was perfectly still. He could have been carved from stone, having stopped breathing at the first flash of blood.

The vampire seemed to have finished examining her wounds. "The cuts aren't deep. Can you stand? We need to get you cleaned up."

Now I was again fighting the urge to throw up. Terror seized my heart for this poor, poor lady. He was just going to escort her out of sight, and then off her. She had no chance.

She started to rise, and the vampire, ever the gentleman, helped her carefully to stand.

My numbed lips struggled to form his sweet name, struggled to speak above a raspy whisper. "Edward…"

He glanced back at me, over his shoulder. Our eyes met, and suddenly, I realized why he was incapable of moving. He was not thirsty, no. Not so tempted. In his intense, torn gaze, I knew he was all too painfully aware of the mortal danger the injured woman was in. But to intervene? Could he? Would he risk my safety? Would he risk his secret?

His moment of indecision was brief.

Uncertainly melted from his eyes, replaced by hard determination. He spun, grasping my elbow, and began to tug me along, through the crowd that had formed, away from the other vampire and his victim. "Let's go."

I had mistaken his indecision for concern for the other woman. It was always about me. He was always so absurdly concerned for me.

Dumbly, I nodded, trying to get my clouded brain to put one shaking foot in front of the other. He was practically dragging me along.

"Can you walk well enough?" his low voice demanded, cool breath whisking across my ear. "I don't want to make a scene, but I can carry you, if the blood…"

"I'll – I'll be fine," I stumbled over the words. "No, I'll be fine."

The brief look Edward shot me was disbelieving. His pace quickened, and I almost wanted to start jogging to keep up with his long strides. Jogging in heels would be a bad idea though. From the corner of my eye, I saw that his free hand, the right one, was clenched in a fist.

I could practically hear his razor-sharp teeth grinding, too. Any hopes I'd have for keeping my playful, cheerful Edward for the entire evening were shot. I hated the waiter, the woman, the vampire and even the champagne flutes right then and there.

He shoved the number for my coat (well, technically, his coat) into the coat-check's hands, silently radiating frozen anger. The teen darted off nervously to get the tan leather coat of Edward's that I so loved.

"Smile, Bella," Edward commanded in a fierce whisper. "He thinks I'm going to beat you. He's weighing whether to alert security."

Under any other circumstance it would have been funny. My lips kind of trembled as I tried to follow Edward's orders, attempting a smile.

The coat-check handed the tan coat I loved to Edward, who took it with a curt nod of thanks. It was very unlike him to be impolite. I'm pretty sure he slipped the teen a bill, likely some ungodly large tip to ward off any unnecessary attention.

He must be incredibly worried to be so entirely preoccupied.

He held the jacket out for me, allowing me to slide my right arm in first, then the left. Silently, he zipped it for me. I wondered if it was because he hoped it would help mask my scent. For some reason or another, all vampires seemed to sit up and take notice when I walked by, apparently.

The coat-check flashed me a half-scared, half-sympathetic look toward me. If I had my wits about me, I think I would have smiled at him again, but I could not wipe away the panic on my features. My skin felt cold and clammy, though I was already breaking into a sweat.

Edward's long fingers seized my elbow again and we were striding out the front doors and down the wide sidewalk toward the SkyTrain. The block and a half seemed so far.

His phone buzzed, and he whipped it out, talking faster than I could understand.

Alice. It had to be Alice. Edward froze again momentarily, catching me off-guard and almost sending me sprawling to the ground due to my momentum. His tawny eyes glinted in the streetlights. They widened in horror, then narrowed, and then his phone snapped shut and gone, and he was reaching for me.

Edward slung me onto his back, a familiar action that almost soothed my terrified nerves.

Before Edward, as lightning-quick as he was, could move, a shrouded figure stepped from a darkened alleyway.

"Hello, brother," a syrupy voice crooned.

Edward must have bared his teeth. I felt the threatening growl that tore from his throat. I could hear his teeth grinding together.

"No need for such… hostility, brother," the male voice murmured. He stepped into the realm of the streetlight. His bloodred eyes shimmered like rubies. Edward stepped to the side, matching the man step for smooth step.

Except Edward knew what he was thinking. Judging by the anxiety radiating from his posture, it was not good. Aside from the stepping, he was a statue, typically exhibiting the Cullen reaction to stress.

So I was petrified, and clutched Edward as tight as humanly possible. If he would have been human, I suspect my strangle-hold on his throat would have not helped the situation at all.

"Stand down," Edward ordered, his velvet voice harsh with anger. "She is not yours."

A sneer curled the lips of the other vampire.

"No," Edward said coldly, to whatever he was thinking. "Absolutely not. Don't even think about trying."

Bloodred eyes narrowed at us. That Edward was carrying on a conversation with this vampire, who wasn't speaking, unnerved me. What was the other one thinking? Why couldn't he just say it aloud?

"Of course," he scoffed.

And then Edward had pulled me down, tucked securely behind him, taking more of a defensive posture now that his arms were freed up. My knees trembled, and breathing was coming shallowly for me.

"My coven is bigger than the last time, Phinneaus," Edward warned, shepherding my steps with one arm as he continued to edge around the circle in perfect synch with the other. "There are seven of us now. She isn't worth the trouble, of that I can assure you."

Edward knew him? Of course. He seemed to know all the Pacific Northwest vampires. Did they meet for conventions in the winter, I wondered.

"But you smell so… tempting, little one," the vampire was addressing me now. Edward snarled.

I was going to be sick. Oh, no. Also, why does everyone keep telling me that? What is wrong with my blood? I wondered if eating deodorant would help diffuse the apparently tantalizing scent of my blood.

"Just a bite, Edward," he cajoled, voice oily. "A little taste. It's cruel to bring out such an alluring little treat and then snatch it back."

Bloodred eyes bored into mine. He feinted forward, but Edward matched his feint with a perfectly timed block.

"I can still hear your thoughts," Edward confirmed grimly in his velvet voice. "I won't repeat it again: Stand down, Phinneaus."

The marble silver-haired vampire half-howled. It was a jarring noise that made my skin prickle. He charged at us – I think – but everything blurred and whirled and suddenly we were on the other side of the streetlight.

"I'm still faster than you," Edward pointed out darkly. "Go home, Phinneaus."

A new growl echoed across space, and my head snapped up, eyes wide at the prospect of another enemy. Would this night ever end? I wanted to clutch closer to Edward, my cold stone fortress.

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